


Untitled (we are often unaware of the games we play to avoid each others eyes)

by MAVEfm



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: 2007, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Drug Use, Gen, Ghosts, Internal Conflict, Internalized Homophobia, Pansexual Character, Recreational Drug Use, Running Away, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Teenage Rebellion, takes place in 2007, there are original characters but theyre mostly there to serve plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-01-06 14:55:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18390677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MAVEfm/pseuds/MAVEfm
Summary: “I feel like I’m being ripped apart and sewn back together again and again and it never stops.”In 2007, a teenage Klaus Hargreeves tries, again and again, to accept who he really is.





	1. January

 

His eyes are dry.

 

He hasn’t blinked in… a minute or two. He can’t. The way the world dips in and out of focus, iridescent as it rolls and twists. Frank Sinatra’s ‘Summer Wind’ flowing in one ear and out the other. His face is frozen, fixed to stare at his undulating multi-colored carpet, his mouth open just so.

 

He sways, or he thinks he is, a cloudy and muffled feeling trapped just behind his forehead. He’s muted, trapped in some esoteric daydream of miasma and bubbles that, whenever they popped, the sound of violins drifted through his consciousness.

 

He lays back, and his hands float up, to the ceiling. His fingers stretching, his palms growing moss.

 

He sighs, letting the light trail past his fingernails and Frank croon softly in between his ears. His bed floats underneath him, unbound by gravity-  _ Come Fly With Me- _

 

He hugs himself, sighing again, feeling his soft blanket against his skin. Every atom in his body bursting with warmth. Words float off his walls, the pen ink bending and twisting into colorful swirls, blinking with light and shimmering like scales or glitter in rocks. He tries to verbalize, his voice caught at the front of his mouth until he settles for a hum, low and reedy, vibrating the entire room. The posters on his wall float across his wall caught in the water that crawled up from his glass and across the floor. It bounced and splashed and the people in the pictures, the rockstars and screaming lead singers, turn to him with open mouths spilling colors and paint.

 

His chest bursts, growing lilacs and white lilies and he braces his hands against the sides of his head as if holding them there would prevent it from falling off and rolling away. He grunts, listening as Frank Sinatra faded out and his body fell backward through space, his bed hollow and tilting. 

 

Klaus scrambles for purchase, the world bending on its axis as he sat back up, sliding like the bubble in a leveling ruler.

 

He stood, and crumpled to the ground, a burst of laughter escaping from between his lips. His fingers tangled themselves in the soft loops of his shaggy carpet and his ceiling swirled, blinking like an eye and twirling like the inside of an umbrella. His music blared, the sudden beat of a jazz orchestra, warmth bloomed in his chest and his mouth tasted sweet, sweeter than anything he’d ever tasted before.

 

He hummed again, trying again to stand.

 

“Mom…” He was only whispering, gathering himself to his knees. He laughed, “I’m sweating,” he said this to himself, an acknowledgment of the truth, his skin turned blue to pink and back to pale. His feet now under him he braced himself against his desk, feeling its texture shift underneath his fingers, soft to bumpy and cold. Goosebumps traveled up to his hair and tightened his scalp, his head feeling heavy and lolling to the side. His glass of water shook, spinning like a whirlpool until he took a drink.

 

A few papers fell to the ground, a few playing cards and pencils, hitting the ground and flying like birds around his room. His music softened and for just a moment, he was overcome, tears spilling from his eyes at the beauty of it all.

 

“I…” He stepped forward to his bedroom door, “I am so…”

 

He leaned against the door, “High.”

 

The posters spilling paint dissolved into stars, celebrating this fact.

 

His ears rang, a knocking sensation on his head, his hair swirled like snakes.

 

The hallway was long and stretching into infinity, the corners glowing purple. His bare feet stuck to the wood floor, suctioning him in place, holding him back like syrup until he made it to the carpet. The fibers tickled his feet and his vision looped, looking into a room just to his right, he saw himself looking back. Distantly, he knew it was a mirror, but he smiled and talked to himself, quiet, a secret:

 

“I was reading this article about Keith Haring,” His reflection said, “You know the one.”

 

Klaus nodded, and Klaus nodded back, assured.

 

Time stretches, he’s on the floor, then the ceiling, he loves himself, he hates himself, he loves the way the wallpaper feels. It shines in the light from the windows. The kids in the little posters commit violent acts- DISARM, GOUGE, KNEE- then turn to wave, he waves back, his whole body spinning in a blue vortex of soft clouds, his mouth filled with moths-

 

“Klaus?”

 

A violin fades at the back of his mind but reignites when he sees her, her hair flowing like a waterfall.

 

“Oh,” He sighs, reaching forward to greet her, “Oh, Vanya, Vanya,” He touches her flowing hair, it feels like silk, the smoothest and finest silk, “Vanya,” His heart swells, “I’m hearing you, it’s like…” She’s staring at him, a weird expression dotting her usually somber face. “It’s so beautiful, Vanya, you’re beautiful,” She blushes and he can’t help but smile wide.

 

“Klaus, you’re high…” She’s smiling too, he can tell, under all that embarrassment.

 

“I know! It’s lovely, I’m so thirsty, Vanya, Vanya… Vanya Vanya Vanya, you have such a nice name, I hope I feel like this forever and ever, and we can just-” He collapses onto her shoulders and she’s so small that it makes Klaus tear up. “Hug forever? I love you, Vanya, I know it’s like, super not obvious because I’m cool and closed off, but I love you and I am so thirsty.”

 

Vanya hugs him back and her fingers run over his back in circles, his skin ignites in warmth and ripples out.

 

She pushes him back to his feet and he twirls, humming a tune offkey.

 

She leads him out into the hallway, “Let’s get something to drink then, okay?”

 

“Vanya Vanya Vanya,” He repeats, the words pop like bubbles. “Did you know that nothing matters, so everything  _ has _ to matter?” He sighs, nodding, assured, “He was so smart until the government killed him.”

 

Vanya nods, assured, Klaus is sure.

 

Her hands were steady on his shoulders, one wrapped around his back like a blanket. He’d only just started really growing, taller than his sisters, Diego, sometimes Allison if she wasn’t in heels. He imagined his body like a vine, reaching up and up and he reached up to the ceiling with his weedy arms, brushing the top of the doorframe.

 

He laughed and Vanya gave him a glance, her eyes swirling. “Okay, we’re gonna go down some stairs now.”

 

“I trust you, Vanya,” He slurs, the floor tipping like a ship at sea, “Mom!” He calls, suddenly, bending away from her as they descended, “Mom!”

 

“She’s in the kitchen, usually,” Vanya said, but not to him, to open air, Klaus blinks, slow and heavy. He reaches out and touches the yellow light and the tail of the ‘y’ at the end of ‘usually’. “She can get you something to drink.”

 

“And you, Vanya,” He said, they stopped for a second on the landing halfway down, “We can…” He looks into her swirling eyes, sparkles popped and twinkled on her face, “How are you?” He smiles, the question popping into his mind soup brain, he remembered not have asked earlier, which must have been rude.

 

“I’m okay, Klaus,” She answered, “How are you?”

 

“I said thirsty,” Klaus nodded and tried to lead her down the stairs, but she grabbed him before he could take his first step into nothing, fully expecting to float, he couldn’t remember. “Mom?”

 

“She could make us a smoothie, Klaus,” Vanya offered and Klaus loved the way she said his name:  _ Klaus. _

 

“Klaus,” He parroted, “Smoothie.”

 

They made it into the kitchen and Mom was humming a tune, soft and sweet and it covered Klaus like a warm bath. Vanya set him down on a chair at the head of the table and he leaned forward, pressing his face into the table, his cheek flat against the wood. “Mom,” He mumbled, feeling the light blue in her dress in his chest, the highlights in her hair shining bright.

 

“Hello Klaus, little goose,” Her smile was the sun, and colors from the pantry boxes swung back and forth like a kaleidoscope. “Vanya, dear.”

 

“Mom,” Vanya, pushed her chair in next to Klaus, “Could we have some smoothies? If you’re not busy, I mean.”

 

Mom tilted her head, “Of course, you’ve caught me just as I finished washing the dishes, and we have fresh bananas, blueberries, it’ll be our little treat.”

 

“I love you, Mom,” Klaus let her voice wash over him, “I’m so thirsty.”

 

Her smile, shifted, a minute change, into something softer, “I love you too, goose, I’ll get started on those smoothies right away,” She reached over to touch his hair, running her fingers around his curls, “And make sure to stay in the house, I feel much better when you’re here when you’re experiencing a high.”

 

Her blue turned like an ocean and she smiled again, giving Vanya a soft touch on her head, “I’ll be right back, just a quick run to the pantry.”

 

Vanya smiled back, then turned back to Klaus, “What… What are you high on?”

 

Klaus blinked, slow like a snail, he laughed thinking about it, “Vanya,” He began, lost his place, and started again, “Vanya, it’s called… there’s a full name, but it’s acid.”

 

She blinked, “What does it feel like?”

 

“I have more, Vanya,” Klaus grabbed her hand, suddenly lit up like a neon sign, “You can try, everything is fast and slow,” He melted like he was caught in a current, bending like trees in a windstorm, “It’s a puddle, and there are lights.”

 

“Maybe...next time there’s a mission,” She patted his hand, “Okay? I’ll try it then.”

 

Klaus patted her hand back, holding her palm between his hands, feeling mushrooms grow from where their skin met and then pop

 

The high dulled a bit as the rest of their family returned, sweaty and tired, Klaus hadn’t bothered to really learn the mission parameters so he was delightfully surprised when their report included words like ‘Foreign’, and ‘Dignitary’, and ‘United Nations’. Missions like that always ended with wonderfully extravagant dinners with incredibly narcissistic politicians. Ben had filled him in as Klaus sat in one of the many living rooms, sipping his strawberry, banana, and raspberry smoothie; his face blank as he watched the room twist and the light glare.

 

Ben hadn’t even had to get out of the car for this mission, and the joy on his face, hidden or no, still made him glow in Klaus’s eyes. He congratulated him, touching his arm affectionately.

 

“Everyone’s going to the dinner, including you and Vanya,” Ben told him, “It’ll be nice, no one else likes to make fun of the delegates with me.”

 

Klaus sighed, wistful, “They’re always so uptight.”

 

Ben nodded, but his posture slowly fell, “I just wish… I wish you could still come with, it’s a lot less fun without you.”

 

Klaus knew that by ‘fun’ he meant: ‘bearable’. By ‘bearable’, he meant ‘someone that will sit in the car with me and make it easier to go if they need me’.

 

The ornate carpet under their feet twisted and tangled.

 

They sat in silence together, Klaus, enamored with the strange sights of his trip, and Ben, buried in his book. By the time dinner came and went, Klaus had barely eaten, moved by Ben to his chair in the dining room and taking small bites of the meat and the vegetables.

 

“I’m just saving room for the big dinner at the end of the week,” He smiled to Ben, who rolled his eyes.

 

“Sure.”

 

His trip didn’t last forever, but he barely slept, kept awake by the acid and dehydrated well into the morning. His dreams, if they were dreams, were of floating through a purple sky, imagining the terrible grabbing hands of ghosts as soft touches instead.

 

It was barely a week later that the dinner arrived. Klaus tried to make himself presentable, smoothing down his hair as best he could and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He did enjoy the dinners, good food, and adult conversations he couldn’t really have with anyone in this family. His disdain for missions and for dad and for photoshoots kind of put him in a rocky standing with his brothers and sister.

 

Save for Ben, and maybe Vanya, sometimes.

 

His suit (and thank  _ fuck _ they didn’t have to wear the uniforms to these functions anymore), was as loud as he could get it. Dad had always had eyes on him when it came to clothes these days, and sneaking even colorful trim past him was an ordeal. But the shining navy blue and the thin tie covered in roses had made it past muster. 

 

By muster, Klaus meant he had simply walked past Klaus on the way to the car without a word.

 

Diego wore all black, a few small knives tucked in somewhere. Ben had gone for a classic three-piece and Allison, wearing a conservative dress that was somehow still a knockout on her, told them they all looked handsome. Even Luther, in the more formal version of the Uniform.

 

Luther’s face burned and Klaus folded his arms.

 

They said goodbye to Vanya.

 

Allison chatted with him all the way, about the food they would eat and the delegates and the music, parties like this were really her scene and Klaus couldn’t help but smile with her for it. She really glowed in the spotlight, lately more now, while Klaus felt like the life was being sucked out of him in a crowd.

 

Allison turned to talk about the dress: “A gift from Giovanni, you know-?”

 

Klaus nodded, “He got you the guest appearance on that Disney show.”

 

“Yes!” Allison laughed, “I’m thinking of making him my full-time agent, but he was so wonderful, he helped me meet a few designers over there and I got fitted by this one girl, and she actually sent this along to him to send to me, it was so nice!” She cooed and Klaus crossed his legs, leaning against the door.

 

He imagined all the champagne he would be able to drink soon.

 

“It looks really nice on you, Allison,” Luther spoke up and right away Allison latched onto him to begin a new conversation. Klaus picked at the hem of his own jacket, a strange sizzling settled angry at the back of his throat, not sure if he liked his suit anymore.

 

They were presented at the dinner in number order, then instructed to spread themselves out amongst the guests for the evening.

 

Ben gave him a nudge with his shoulder and quickly made off, finding the table with the quietest people, as was his talent.

 

Klaus let himself be beckoned, just wanting to find some sort of alcohol. A delegate from France and his family smiled at him, and a woman held a glass flute up to him, bubbling gold. He pointed at her, cheeky, and sat.

 

They laughed, “Boy knows what he wants!” One said, some other delegate, “Get him some champagne, he’s with the academy!”

 

“Klaus,” He introduced himself, shaking hands with the glass and eyeing the bottle.

 

“Klaus,” A man in his forties nodded, an accent nipping at his voice, “Good German name, but maybe I’m biased,” He smiled, the other partygoers laughing as he jokingly explained why. Klaus nodded, then complemented his pink tie, it contrasted with his dark skin.

 

“Now, what is it that you  _ do _ ?” A woman asked, cutting her steak as evenly as possible.

 

“Oh, you know,” Klaus waved his fingers, glancing at the waiter as he set another chair down at the table. “Little bit of this, a little bit of that, I make a wonderful Sidecar.” The table giggled with him.

 

“Well now I’m curious,” The French delegate pressed, “Give it up.”

 

Klaus gave a pause that was so brief it reminded him of Diego’s attitude, “Well… I don’t know, it’s hard to explain, I guess I’m a psychic?” He swallowed.

 

“Like a medium, with ghosts?” Another woman leaned in and his chest tightened.

 

The extra chair was suddenly, thankfully filled, by a boy his age. He looked like a younger and more athletic version of the German delegate and must have been his son, from the way he was clapped on the back as he sat down. “Finally! Noah,” He gestured to the table, “Everyone, my son: Noah, late as usual.”

 

Noah straightened his suit as they greeted him, making a small adjustment to the tight curls on top of his head, “I didn’t bring a suit!” he defended, “This was a last minute shopping trip, of course, I’m late,” The table laughed, including Klaus, buzzing from champagne, finally.

 

Noah sat and they met eyes, a smile lit up his face.

 

Klaus felt a coil wind its way up his stomach, but he smiled back, just as bright.

 

The evening waned.

 

Standing became the norm as the night dragged, introducing dessert: Ice cream and cake, but somehow classy because it was served in a government building.

 

Klaus kept his hands on the champagne, and never let it get too low, but he nursed it, drinking water whenever he felt his father’s eyes on him. Maybe the back of his suit would be covered in burn marks when they got home, two marks spaced evenly apart. His back itched.

 

“So you’re the superheroes everyone is talking about,” Noah stepped closer to him, almost coming from nowhere, “We didn’t get to talk much earlier.”

 

Even if the suit he was wearing had been bought at a Macy’s, it still looked great on him.

 

Klaus fixated on the fabric around his arms.

 

He blinked, his head fizzing.

 

“Uh, yeah,” He smiled, “The Umbrella Academy,” He mimicked fanfare and Noah laughed, tucking his hands into his pockets. He had his own champagne flute, though it wasn’t as worn in as Klaus’s.

 

They began a short walk, slowly across the dining room floor.

 

“So were you there? At this mission, they are thanking you for?”

 

“Oh, I’m not really an  _ action _ guy,” Klaus admitted, “More… Strategy,” He gave Noah a nod, “You know, a planner, I mean I’m good in a fight, but really I do the tech stuff, keep everyone together, I really keep the whole team from falling apart.” He smiled, coy, relishing in the concept as if it were real.

 

“Oh, wow,” Noah nodded, seeming impressed, “Like the hacker from the Mission Impossible movies, behind the screen.”

 

“ _ Exactly _ like that,” Klaus smiled, “Luther will tell you he’s on point but I’m the one giving him directions.”

 

Noah laughed and Klaus felt giddy.

 

“Now wait, which one is that?”

 

It took him a second to remember that they were talking about his siblings, and he leaned to point out Luther, entertaining a few guests with not so subtle stories that would promote the Academy. Noah hummed, “I see, he looks a bit stuck up.”

 

“Oh, he is!” Klaus said, bouncing on his heels. Noah was leading their walk to the edges of the party, complimenting Klaus further. He took them all gladly, feeling the buzz of champagne in his brain. Noah joked, Klaus laughed, and they spun around each other.

 

Noah refilled his flute and was momentarily caught up in small talk with a diplomat from the country of Who Cares because Klaus felt immediately inconvenienced by him. It was a very clear annoyance that he couldn’t pinpoint exactly, because the man was perfectly normal except he had interrupted Klaus in the middle of a breakneck story of a mission that Klaus had cobbled together from memory when they were much younger, not the Eiffel Tower one, though yes that was the most interesting one. No, this one came after-

 

He caught himself mid-sway. 

 

Noah kept giving him looks whenever the diplomat was distracted, and it made Klaus smile. Why he had no idea. But he did take a moment to realize how tall Noah was, and Klaus really liked that too, for some reason, not many people were taller than Klaus lately.

 

He reached forward, a bit out of it, and touched Noah’s shoulder.

 

Noah gave him another look, kind of like the one Mom gave Klaus whenever he said something sweet to her. Really, Klaus just hated this old diplomat right now, just everything about him. His hair to his crooked teeth and sticky way of talking, like his tongue was suctioned to the roof of his mouth and he had to rip it off with every word. Klaus put everything he had into his touch, everything that said:  _ ‘Okay, talk to me again, now, please.’ _

 

Noah thanked the diplomat, giving him pleasantries and a sharp goodbye.

 

Then he led Klaus along by his arm and said: “God, he’s such a  _ Pissnelke.”  _ They both nearly exploded into laughter, because champagne did that to you. Klaus found he was riding some sort of high, having succeeded.

 

They came to rest in a room outside the party, it had the same carpet and the chandeliers, but it was comfy and warm. Noah steered them to a corner, pressed away from the rest of the diplomat’s that had made their way out with them to sit and chat in the quiet.

 

Klaus leaned against a wall, clutching his flute close to his chest. Noah put one hand in his pocket and echoed the lean onto one shoulder.

 

“Thanks for the assist back there,” Noah nodded, indicating their escape from the diplomat, “These delegates can talk for hours if my father is an example.”

 

“I’m really glad you’re here,” Klaus said, “I get excited about all the food and then I remember halfway through that everyone just wants to talk about The Academy.”

 

“Isn’t that what we were talking about anyway?” Noah smiled.

 

“Yeah, but, they just want to talk about _ their  _ version, all the fancy footwork and the missions and the heroics, like Luther and Allison, I don’t get to talk about my version, or answer anything real.”

 

Noah nodded in understanding, and it felt like he did, to Klaus.

 

“And then I just want to go home.”

 

“To tell you the truth, I didn’t really want to come either,” Noah spoke low, his accent thick, “Because then I have to do the same thing, or speak for my father like I have any idea what he’s doing… And it’s even worse sometimes when people believe he does not really represent Germany, because we don’t  _ look _ German, like black German’s don’t exist.” Klaus nodded, riding a tidal wave of his words.

 

“So what made you come?”

 

Klaus was whispering too, a weight kept his eyes on Noah’s dark face.

 

“Honestly… My father, he is what I care about, even though I’m not spending my time attached to him, I feel better because he’s here, and I want to support him, and he knows exactly how I feel.” They paused, looking at each other. Klaus felt tight like he was doing something wrong, until Noah asked: “It must be like that for you?”

 

“Huh?” Klaus straightened, feeling like he couldn’t breathe, trapped exchanging hot air with Noah, who was suddenly much too close-

 

“I mean, from what you say, you don’t like your father very much, or much of this whole Academy thing,” Noah smiled, his fingers fluttering as he changed his flute from hand to hand, he had a little gap in his front teeth. 

 

“Oh,” Klaus took a deep breath and a sip of champagne, feeling the way the shadows pressed warmly against his suit and then his body, “I mean… I don’t hate my siblings, I can’t hate them, but they just never get it, you know? What it’s like to be me,” Klaus tilted his head at Noah, “They see me one way, and _ that’s  _ never gonna change,” He snorted, “But you know, Ben is here, and he knows  _ why _ I am the way I am, maybe I just stick around because he’s in the same boat as me.”

 

“People are stronger when they have something that unites them to someone else,” Noah had this cologne on that reminded Klaus of old paper and firewood. Klaus felt the urge to check his watch, remembering vaguely their father’s usual time of departure, and with how dark it must be outside… Klaus felt panicky, his fingers pulled tight as he sipped his champagne down to its end, no more alcohol.

 

Something just felt wrong, like his entire body was shaking.

 

Noah had dark, dark eyes, almost black. Klaus felt hot again, giddy but petrified when he grabbed his hand, the one with the watch, and directed it back down.

 

“‘Think we got a minute,” He said.

 

Klaus blinked, then pulled his hand away, reaching up to touch Noah’s face, his eyes wide.

 

Alarm bells blared in his head, the kind Dad used to signal a mission, the red flashing and all.

 

Noah caught his hand trailing down his cheek, looked down at it through thick lashes, his lips brushing up against his palm by his thumb.

 

“Am I wrong?” Noah stopped, abrupt when he saw how wide Klaus’s eyes were. “I’d hate that, to be doing this when it’s-”

 

“I don’t-” Klaus swallowed, because he wanted to-

 

The alarm bells screamed at him, that he was  _ wrong _ . 

 

Noah nodded, “I get it,” He said.

 

And that kind of made Klaus angry because he  _ didn’t _ , no matter how much of this heartfelt conversation they’d been having had given away, he wasn’t really the type to bare his soul to some random person-

 

“Okay, okay,” Noah laughed, strangely, because Klaus had said all of that out loud, “I don’t get a lot of it, but maybe some of it.”

 

“No, because I’m not-” Klaus looked away, “Like I  _ need _ something else added to this list I have.” 

 

“Why does it have to be added to it then?” Noah asked, still holding Klaus’s hand, “Maybe it’s not even something that can be added to that list because it’s not the type of thing that gets put on that list.”

 

“It’s  _ not _ , because  _ I’m _ not, I can  _ like _ girls,” Klaus spat, then looked down at his shoes, “I’m like… drunk on champagne.”

 

He didn’t feel very drunk anymore.

 

“Me too,” Noah nodded, “So it kinda doesn’t matter at all, really.”

 

“Right,” Klaus nodded back, “Nothing matters.”

 

Noah closed his eyes and swayed, he whispered:  _ “So everything must matter.” _

 

“What?” Klaus asked, a lump in his throat, a distant memory working its way up his mind’s eye.

 

“Mm, nothing,” Noah, was still so close, “If you’re so drunk, and I’m so drunk, let’s just have fun.”

 

The collective voice of the party close by was so loud, everyone preparing for the closing ceremony. 

 

“It’ll last about fifteen minutes, just forget about what you’re not because  _ nothing matters. _ ”

 

Noah squeezed his hand again, pressing Klaus’ fingers to his cheek, where his skin tingled, his mouth went dry.

 

He felt dizzy, and when they moved together, it was Klaus that met Noah, standing up as straight as he could to overcome Noah’s height. Maybe Klaus really was drunk, but they were both sloppy, open-mouthed without really committing to the implication, though Klaus hadn’t much practice in the first place. He was sloppy, and it wasn’t very heavy in the first place, but his lips burned, and yeah, he was drunk again. He tried lifting his arms, dropping the empty flute to the floor, it felt like he was fighting gravity trying to get his hands to Noah’s shoulders. 

 

Noah found his way to Klaus’s hair, one hand pulling back his hair gel and releasing his curls, the other on his ribs, moving rhythmically in the grooves of his skin. Klaus fought to get his hand to Noah’s face again, rest on his cheek, and let the other catch up.

 

It was slow, instead of heated and fast, but Klaus’s head pounded with how much he wanted to  _ stop _ \- 

 

He pushed Noah off, wiping his mouth, “No, it’s nothing, it didn’t matter-”

 

“Did I do something wrong?” Noah asked.

 

“No, I’m sure it would have been great if I actually was  _ like that- _ ” He was almost frantic, smoothing his jacket and fixing his hair. Noah picked up the flute he had dropped.

 

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Noah stepped in front of him, “I shouldn’t have insisted,” He gave Klaus a look that held so much truth that Klaus could have cried. “For what it’s worth, before that, I had a really fun time, you are a great person, Klaus.”

 

The crowd in the party cheered about something, Klaus traced the pattern in the carpet with his eyes, then said: “I had a good time too… I’m sorry I couldn’t, you know, get you what you  _ wanted _ or whatever, but I did kinda pour my heart out for you.”

 

Noah shrugged, “It was mutual, shall we get back inside?” He gestured to the double doors back to the party, “I still had fun, but it wasn’t like you said, you didn’t get what you wanted either.”

 

Klaus was almost sad knowing that they probably wouldn’t see each other again.

 

But he waved goodbye anyway as his family made their exit from the party, having quickly found a seat close to Ben as they had reentered the party. Noah waved back, his soft smile betrayed nothing.

 

But Klaus’ mouth felt hot again that night, tucked in and safe in his bed. The fairy lights fuzzy around the edges. He’d brushed his teeth when he’d gotten home, forcing himself in a scalding hot bath, then brushed his teeth again. He listened to Dad berate Diego on some behavioral issue he’d witnessed at the dinner and tuned it out with his headphones and the loudest track he could find.

 

He had stared at himself in the mirror, his own body yelling at him.

 

He ripped off the headphones and paced his room, then threw himself onto the bed, scratching his arms. He stood again, pressed his palms to his head and messed his hair, sending it sticking in wild directions. Silently, behind a closed door, he screamed, his breath hissing and his nails digging into the skin of his palms.

 

His heartbeat erratic, “Fuck, fuck!” He whispered, “Fuck! Bastard, piece of garbage, _ fuck you!” _

 

He stilled, breathing in, then out, ignoring the pinball state of his head and the way he wanted to rip his own skin off.

 

He found his way to the infirmary, then the cabinet, and the painkillers.

 

He shoved the bottle in his underwear and padded back to his room, avoiding eye contact with Diego on the way.

 

He was muttering to himself, so Diego avoided his gaze too. 

 

His own babbles sounded close to a mantra, over and over: _ Nothing matters, nothing matters, nothing matters- _

 

He crushed the painkillers under a heavy book, as fine as he could, the effort making him sweat as the heater kicked in. Outside his window was a soft January snow. Inside, inside Klaus, his body pounded with hot regret regret _ regret- _

 

His head chased fantasies of poor, little, Number Five with the ability to jump through time. Fantasies where it had been him instead, with the fun powers, with which he could use to go back in time to beat the shit out of  _ stupid fucking Noah- _

 

The painkillers were dust and he used his hands to straighten it into a line.

 

A lady screamed at him from the corner of his room, her eyes melting out her skull, her hair on fire for all eternity: _ “Klaus!” _ Her fingers made of melting flesh, he threw the book at her and it slammed into the wall behind her.

 

“It’s not true!”

 

He shrieked at her, she screamed back. His hands shook.

 

“It’s not his fault,” He turned away, readying himself, feeling the sudden guilt of ever thinking something like that, “It’s Luther’s job to do that, I’m better than that, I-”

 

He dragged his nose across his desk, his eyes stinging with tears.

 

“I’m not- I don’t lie to anyone like he does,” The burning woman was dissolving before his eyes, unable to push through with the painkillers fighting back, he jabbed a finger into his chest, “I’m better than anyone of those fucks that think this matters,  _ nothing matters.” _

 

His lips burned.

 

He fell back onto his bed, chasing the sudden euphoria of Oxycodone. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY!! You can find me on tumblr @ sangrientojoe.tumblr.com


	2. February

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I should kinda explain how this is going down lol, so each chapter is a month, and I take the most significant events of each month and condense it, the original characters and the events in it have no effect on the events of the actual series and while there's no big overarching thing going down in this fic, the main PLOT is Klaus coming to terms with his sexuality. I only say this because I'm always a little self conscious when it comes to fics like this where I don't have a hge conspiracy or w/e but I'm still so excited to share it because it's a story I want to tell.

 

He had been lured under false pretenses, candy and a bottle of brandy, maybe a trip to the arcade down on Fifth, there was even a box of smokes in the glove compartment.

 

And it was nice when Diego got behind the wheel willingly.

 

“So glad you decided it was  _ me _ you wanted to  _ hang with _ today,” Klaus batted his eyelashes, brandy burned the back of his throat. The car was rickety and old, from the back of the garage as opposed to the polished and classic ‘Hermes’ car that was usually reserved for missions. This car was really more Diego’s style, though, fraying around the threads and duct tape smoothed over the edges. He picked at some now, having finished a few of the peppermints and saving the Sour Gummies for later. 

 

They’d decided (as a team!) to leave the chocolate in the backseat, hoping it would melt a little in the sharp February sun.

 

They came to rattling stop at a red light, listening to some asshole rev his engine behind them. Diego adjusted the rearview mirror, wearing his fingerless gloves that Klaus thought were just the right amount of over-the-top for him.

 

He sipped the brandy, screwing his eyes shut when he swallowed.

 

“Yeah, well, I’d look pretty stupid going to the arcade by myself.”

 

“You look stupid no matter what,” Klaus tucked his knees into his chest, fiddling with the laces of his shoes, “But you’re right, it cancels out when you’re with me.”

 

“So you’re saying you look stupid no matter what too?” Diego gave him one of his signature half-smiles, where his teeth kind of turned it into a snarl because smiling like a human being was too hard. Klaus palmed the side of his face and pushed him away, leaving to Diego to slap at his arm, “Because that’s what cancelling out means, we do the same thing, so it negates itself- stop! Jesus…” He righted the steering wheel, laughing under his breath.

 

Klaus half-wished Ben had come along, instead of being responsible and studying, he’d probably say something like: “You two are so stupid, it doubles in strength.” He told Diego so, and he snorted.

 

“Like he’s not the stupidest,” He fell silent, keeping his eyes plastered to the road in front.

 

Klaus felt a little selfish, simultaneously wishing Ben was along for the ride, but also glad he wasn’t. 

 

Diego frowned, turning a corner, then he asked: “Hey… What’s he been doing anyway?”

 

“Ben?” Klaus watched him give a curt nod, “Studying mostly, test prep, all that, for the ACT in March… You didn’t know?”

 

“Guess I’ve had my mind on other things.”

 

They find parking just a block away, Klaus stuffs the bag of Sour Gummies into the pocket of his jacket, which was two sizes too big. He’d been wearing a lot of big clothes lately, out of choice, big sweaters, big coats.

 

“Don’t worry about change, I’ve been saving up.”

 

It took Klaus a second to process the sentence, “Ah, oh,  _ that _ type of change,” He laughed, “I get it.” Diego hummed and they crossed the street, jaywalking from in front of a convenience store to the Rocket Arcade. If Klaus looked down the street to his left, he would have been able to see the neon signs of Superstar Bowling, and past that, the insurance building that used to be pub before it got shot up and filled with ghosts with shotgun wounds in their chests.

 

“Fun, fun,” He whistled, “Classics or new shit?”

 

Diego pointed to the nearest game of basketball, and the Street Fighter right next to it. “How about you have some fun before I kick your ass at skeeball later?”

 

“While you, what? Update your high score on _ hoops _ ? You literally can’t lose,” Klaus scoffed, but snatched the bag of coins from him anyway.

 

“Sometimes I miss on purpose,” He shrugged, popping in the quarters and making his point by bouncing the first ball perfectly off the barriers and back into his hands.

 

Klaus returned his smirk by sticking out his tongue.

 

And for a while he thought he was actually having a good time with his brother.

 

“Ha, oh, look you won this round of Skeeball, again,” Klaus said, watching a few kids play a zombie shooter a few feet away. Diego didn’t respond.

 

“Hey, why not try a racing game? You know the ones that make Luther throw up?” Klaus knew it was a ridiculous ask, but the arcade was getting boring without weed there to back up the visuals, and he kinda missed the Brandy still sitting in the car.

 

Thank god no one had died in this arcade. Yet.

 

“Earth to Diego?” He turned back to see Diego fingering the almost empty bag of change, “There are other aiming games if that’s what you want.”

 

Diego nodded, but his brain obviously hadn’t caught up yet, as he was staring out the window, to the convenience store across the street. “Uh-huh,” He looked back to Klaus, “How about that?” He waved his hand in the general direction of Dance Dance Revolution.

 

Klaus stared at it for a hot second, then glared, “Or do you just want to go home?”

 

“What, no no, see those kids are moving, let’s play that,” Diego turned on his heel to the zombie game, tense. It had gotten darker since they’d been there, the sky turning orange outside. Klaus glared again, then dropped it.

 

“No, I’m not really a _ zombie  _ fan, or a dead fan at all really,” Klaus pointed toward the racing games at the back wall, “Why not those?”

 

Diego shook his head, “Nah, I like the games at the front more,” Klaus planted his feet into the sparkly black carpet, piecing together the day in his head, or he tried to. He wasn’t exactly swimming in alcohol by any means, but the brandy had made him a little fuzzy around the edges.

 

“Okay,” Klaus huffed, suddenly tense, feeling the shadows at the edges of the room grow darker, “A round of Street Fighter, you and then me.” Diego was barely listening, “Or we could just go home?”

 

He snapped at Diego without meaning to, and he swiveled to face Klaus almost immediately.

 

“No, no, you then me, instead,” His smile was tight.

 

Klaus set his jaw, “Got something on your mind, big guy?”

 

“Yeah, thinking about how I’m gonna kick your ass.”

 

But halfway through Klaus’s round, that he was barely paying attention to anyway, Diego was out the door like a shot, barreling across the street to the convenience store. Klaus stumbled after, angry and somewhat vindicated. Two boys, dressed in hoodies and frankenstein masks tripped out the door, holding a bag and clutching snacks and chips. Klaus let them pass and one bumped his shoulder, laughing as Diego tripped back out the door. “Fuck!” He had a knife at the ready, but he froze when he saw Klaus, who crossed his arms, miffed.

 

“So that’s what this was about?” He asked, “‘Let’s go to the arcade Klaus! Let’s get out of the house!’ Little do I know, you’ve been following orders this entire time! Screw you, Diego,” He approached his brother and gave him a shove, “Should have known the second you lost that  _ first _ game of skeeball, you were on stake out this entire time.”

 

“Klaus-” Diego hesitated to put the knife away, “I’m not on a mission-”

 

“Could have fooled me, what are you gonna say about me for the report? That I let them get away?”

 

“ _ Dad doesn’t know, _ Klaus!” Diego shoved back, “It’s all me.”

 

Klaus pouted, trying to erase his confusion to stay angry, “So I was what? A convenient excuse? Luther asked you to get me out of the house?”

 

“No!” Diego’s eyes darted over his shoulder, but the boys were gone. “It’s… I wanted to go anyway, this was just… It was lucky.”

 

Klaus needed something to smoke, or a pill.

 

He pushed Diego, walking back to the car.

 

“I should have told you,” Diego followed behind, “But I’ve been tracking those assholes for a month, it was my thing, not Dad’s, and definitely not Number One’s-”

 

“Oh so you’re playing vigilante to get back at Luther, how noble,” Klaus rolled his eyes, “Whatever,  _ Kraken _ .”

 

“It’s not just that, Klaus,” Diego grabbed his arm, “You know how shit’s been going south, same as me, who even gives a shit about the Academy besides those fucking politicians? And what good are we even doing anymore? Bodyguards to the rich? Protect some poor assholes fortune?” 

 

“Last I checked, we happened to be a part of that one percent-” Klaus waved his hand through the air, but Diego interrupted.

 

“No,” He shook his head, “Dad is, us? We’re  _ orphans _ , our moms didn’t want us so he’s letting us stay at his house we’re seventeen, not ten, Klaus,” He fumbled with the keys to the car, “Yeah, I should have just told you, instead of having you guess, whatever… I can do this, though, I can get to know my own hometown and take down criminals and wear a mask, comic books and Sir Reginald be damned.” 

 

He slammed the door getting into the driver’s seat, and Klaus was left in silence as he circled the car. Then sighed, heavy as he could, getting into the passenger seat, “You know stake-outs are supposed to be done at night, and you sit in the car and eat garbage, not go to the arcade.”

 

Diego didn’t smile, but his face twitched, “Sounds boring, and the guys I’m looking for work during the day.”

 

Klaus pulled the chocolate to the front seat, “Sounds stupid.”

 

“Nobody said criminals were smart.”

 

“Oh, then you have a lot in common,” Klaus rested his head on the cold window.

 

Diego tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, letting the radio drone on, “Hey, come one, forgive me? We still had fun.”

 

The radio launched into an ad for Home Insurance.

 

“You’re not some...  _ excuse, _ Klaus, I really did want to hang out-”

 

“There’s a chinese takeout place, up here,” Klaus pointed, recognizing the street and the red sign, “Crab Rangoon, Lo Mein.”

 

Among other things, Klaus tapped his foot thinking about it.

 

“Yeah, sure,” Diego pulled into the parking lot.

 

They entered together, erhu music playing over the speakers and the front menu fading into blue and pink. Klaus felt better just seeing it, he told Diego: “I’m going to the bathroom.”

 

Diego nodded, mumbling his order under his breath, an old method of practice that had turned into a habit.

 

He turned down the hall by the drinking fountain and condiments stand, passing the door to the break room and then past the double doors to the kitchen where he could hear pots and pans banging up against silver cooktops. The doors swung open and a woman yelled shrill in Chinese. Klaus passed the restrooms and instead aimed for the door with the glowing Exit sign, stepping out into the back alley behind the restaurant. The dumpster was overflowing, and Klaus could see his breath mingle with the cigarette smoke and the sharp February air.

 

“Hey, I had a feeling you might stop by,” Klaus turned to see the smiling face of a dishwasher, his apron stained and his hair held back in a cap, his large black coat protecting him from the chill. “Need a stock up?”

 

He was a tall guy, thin but not like Klaus, who was all angles. He had dark eyes and long, straight hair that was brushed over his face, and smoke lingered around him like a second jacket, his cigarette balanced on his lip.

 

Klaus smiled back, flush with the cold, “Hey, Damian,” He patted his pockets, “Glad I caught you on break.”

 

“I saw you in the parking lot,” Damian waved his hand, holding his cigarette between two fingers, “Who’s your friend?”

 

“Brother,” He responded, fishing his wallet out of his jacket, “Diego.”

 

“Looks like a straight edge,” Damian watched Klaus count paper, “He cool?”

 

“He’s buying me dinner,” Klaus shrugged, “And he’s  _ so _ high strung, like you.”

 

They exchanged hands, a bag of assorted fun things for Klaus Hargreeves, money for Damian Zhang.

 

“Well maybe he’s stressed,” Damian said, a playful look in his eye, “My Aunt Mary has a home remedy for that.” Klaus snorted, securing the bag in his inner pocket.

 

“Hilarious, has anyone told you how funny you are?”

 

“For a discount, yeah,” Damian took a drag, then tilted his head, “You doing anything next week?”

 

“Having a sale?”

 

“Nah,” He blew smoke, “Meeting some friends, you’re cool, maybe you should come.”

 

The word  _ friends _ echoed in and out of Klaus’s head. 

 

Klaus hadn’t really known anyone that fit the description before. Allison had friends, lots of people his age had friends, Klaus did not have friends. Sometimes fans gave him weed at signings, and they could be his friends, Ben was his friend, maybe best friend, but that was different to what Damian was saying.

 

Because Damian was his pot dealer, which was a business relationship that had formed about two years ago when his old guy, Carl, got arrested for much more serious drug related issues. Klaus met Damian on Carl’s old beat, they shook hands and that was that. Now Damian felt confident enough to invite him to hang, and okay, Diego would hate that he was hanging around drug dealers and Klaus was still a little angry at him, so:

 

“Yeah, I can hang out,” He nodded, “You have my phone number?”

 

Damian nodded, pleased, “The burner you keep in your mattress, you told me, I’ll keep in touch.” He smiled, strangely sweet.

 

Klaus nodded ‘goodbye’, feeling a burst of excitement in his chest as he met Diego back at the front. He could smell the noodles wafting from the paper bag as they climbed back into the car. “What took you so long?” Diego asked.

 

“I had to set all this toilet paper down, it was gross in there,” Klaus flicked his hand in the air, “And then I had to deface the stall you know, for a good time call this number and ask for ‘Spaceboy’.”

 

He was itching to light up, catching sight of a man at the crosswalk who had bones piercing through his neck, the left side of his face covered in blood. Klaus looked away before they could meet eyes, they could follow him if he made eye contact.

 

“You’re still mad at me.” Diego nodded.

 

“I don’t care enough,” Klaus curled up in his seat and burying his face in his coat, trying to see if he could smell anything from his bag. “You want to be a vigilante, be my guest Nightwing, I think it’s more fun to watch crime than stop it if you ask me.”

 

“I can’t keep being sidelined, Klaus,” Diego said, his face like stone, “Shit’s already changing back at the Academy, especially now that you’re not on missions anymore, I could see it coming a mile away.”

 

“Do you  _ really  _ miss me that much?” Klaus drolled, nursing the half-empty bottle of brandy.

 

“You can start coming again anytime,” Diego said, turning the car to take the long way home, “He benched you because you were getting drunk before missions, you just gotta go to training sober again and you’ll be back.”

 

“And let him order Luther into throwing me across the room again?” Klaus scoffed, “What a waste of time.” 

 

“That’s what I mean,” Diego flicked the headlights on, “You took your chance and now you’re off the team, Allison won’t get off the phone with her agent, all Vanya does anymore is practice, Ben is studying the ACT to get into college, Dad can’t see it, but I can,” He ended sharply, like he could see the old man in front of him and now he was delivering the conclusion to his argument, “The real world is catching up, no more uniforms or running up the stairs, nobody but the politicians give a shit about the Academy anymore, so w-why should I when I can do everything he taught us to do better?”

 

Klaus gave him a sidelong glance, resting his head on the back of the car seat. Lazily, he nursed the brandy until Diego glanced back.

 

“I just want your support on this.”

 

Klaus paused.

 

“Have you caught anyone?”

 

“Only a couple, this guy was trying to rob someone at the ATM, and then a mugger a few weeks back.”

 

“And the Kraken saved the day,” Klaus held the bottle aloft.

 

They soon pulled into the garage, the silence heavy as the bag in his coat pressed into his ribs and Damian Zhang’s invitation echoed through his mind. 

 

“Yeah, okay, whatever,” He climbed out of the passenger seat, “Be a vigilante, get a rogues gallery and brood on a rooftop.”

 

Diego looked at him over the top of the car, “You mean that?”

 

“Sounds like you have it all figured out, big guy,” Klaus stuffed the brandy under his arm and finally relented, pulling a joint from the bag and lighting up. 

 

“And you clearly have better things to do,” Diego grumbled at the sight, but didn’t ask where it came from. Klaus nodded happily. “Let’s just… Go around to the fire escape, we missed dinner.”

 

“A picnic in Five’s room!” Klaus felt his body loosen, drifting with the sweet smoke, “He would have hated it.”

 

Diego tucked the bag under his arm, “Yeah, he would’ve,” He sighed, then made a grabbing motion with his other hand as he led the way back around the building to the alleyway with the fire escape. Klaus gasped happily, and shared the joint.

 

“I’m making a point to not ask you where you got this,” Diego grumbled, taking a short drag, nowhere near as experienced as Klaus. Klaus giggled.

 

“ _ I’m _ making a point to not tell you,” He took the joint back, letting it rest between his lips as they climbed the escape.

 

If they were being noisy, no one bothered to come in to tell them as they spread their small feast on the floor of Five’s room, kept clean by their mother’s cleaning. Just a door down, Ben would be studying, or reading one his millions of books. Klaus saved him a fortune cookie for later.

 

Diego cracked his open after finishing his chicken, “A fresh start will put you on your way, hm,” He nodded to Klaus, “How about you?”

 

“Let’s see…” Klaus chose one from their pile, “Advice, when most needed, is least heeded, whatever that means.”

 

“It makes sense,” Diego shrugged, then his eyes flicked back to Klaus, “You swear you’re not gonna tell anyone?”

 

Klaus hesitated, “About what? That you bought me take-out and no one else?”

 

Diego smiled, then faltered as the steps out in the hall rumbled with the rest of the Academy made their way up to their rooms. The two of them scrambled to pick up their garbage and Klaus put out the joint on the windowsill. sweeping it into the dumpster far below. Diego followed with the take-out, then they scurried back to their own rooms.

 

Diego did anyway, Klaus took a sharp turn to Ben’s room, heart beating rapidly as he launched himself onto the bed. “Hey!” Ben hurried to grab his books and pens. “I had everything organized!”   
  


“You will _ not _ believe what Diego’s been getting himself into,” Klaus rolled over, showing the fortune cookie as a peace offering. “I mean, it’s not that hard of a stretch, but I like to say that.”

 

Ben furrowed his brow, but took the cookie anyway, peeling back it’s wrapper. He smiled at the results, then resumed his frown, “What have you two dumbasses done now?” Klaus bit back his smile, remembering how snarky Ben could be away from the eye of their father, and even their siblings.

 

“Okay, he swore me to secrecy, so of course I had to tell you, but…” He leaned in closer to Ben, who echoed him in kind, “Diego… is going full comic book action movie star, apparently going out, acting like a vigilante,” Klaus skimmed through the rest, watching Ben as he went through the stages of grief.

 

“Luther will hate it,” Ben grimaced, “And dad.”

 

“That’s why I’m keeping it a secret.”

 

“Of course,” Ben sniffed, “Where’d you get the weed?”

 

Klaus smiled as sweet as he could, rolling onto his back.

 

Ben pushed him out just an hour later, needing sleep and insisting: “So do you.”

 

Klaus hugged him tight, still a little high.

 

He woke up after just a few hours of sleep, not remembering the nightmares except for the screaming. But at the back of his mind he remembered Damian Zhang, looking up at him through thick eyelashes.

 

The woman with the melted face screamed.

 

Klaus lit another joint and tiptoed to the bathroom.

 

He started the water and stood under it, fully clothed, as it rained down from the showerhead, cold.

 

He held the blunt out to the side.

 

A woman with rope burns around her neck sat on the toilet and sobbed.

 

Two nights later, his mattress vibrated.

 

The cell phone his only access to dealers, numbers given to him by Damian and dealers at clubs he’d snuck out to once or twice, but he’d never used it for a social call.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hey Klaus,” Damian’s voice was deeper over the phone, “You ever been to Superstar?”

 

“I love the Superstar,” Klaus didn’t know it was open so late.

 

“Like I said, me, and a few friends,” Damian paused, then laughed about something Klaus couldn’t hear, “Swing by?”

 

Klaus was already getting his shoes on, “I’m already there, actually.”

 

Before he left, he checked Diego’s room.

 

Empty.

 

Luther shifted in his sleep, and Klaus hurried out Five’s window to the street below.

 

He hoped he wouldn’t run into Diego.

 

Or the sobbing woman from the past few days wasn’t  _ fucking _ following him- “Go away, asshole!” She sobbed louder, and a man with several rounds of ammunition loaded into his chest joined her, but had taken the more fun route of spitting curses at him.

 

He was high long before he reached the bowling alley, and was delighted to discover Damian and all his friends were too.

 

“Klaus,” Damian’s smile was soft, and Klaus wanted to hit himself on the head with a bowling ball. “This is my friend, Trevor,” They shook hands, and Trevor was impossibly tall and covered in freckles. He had dimples on each cheek.

 

“And this is Sylvia.” 

 

She contrasted by being short, her hair in cornrows, “So great to finally meet you,” She smiled, her eyes red, “Oh shit… This is my boyfriend, Nolan.”

 

Nolan flashed a peace sign, dressed in neon, in preparation for when the blacklight turned on. He ran a hand through his curly hair, “What’s up?”

 

Klaus nodded back, floating above the ground, and for a moment they were silent.

 

Trevor snorted and Damian struggled to type their names into the keypad.

 

“I swear to fuck dude I know you from somewhere,” Trevor spoke slow, like a surfer, Klaus laughed with him, “Like… Do you do dog food commercials?” Sylvia screeched, laughing.

 

“Fuck,” Klaus thought, “I wish I did dog food commercials.”

 

“No,” Sylvia had to lean on Trevor she was so giggly, “You’re that guy- the guy! He says: After that phone call-” She hissed and Klaus laughed with her, “-That phone call, I’m hard... _ pressed for cash!” _

 

Nolan smiled sluggishly behind them, “It’s from a phone sex hotline commercial,” Sylvia squeaked she was laughing so hard, “She loves that commercial.”

 

She wiped her eyes, “ _ Yeah.” _

 

Trevor snapped his fingers in Klaus’ face, “I know! I know it!”

 

Damian picked a ball that was too heavy for him, stumbled, then said, “He’s an Umbrella dude.”

 

Klaus tried not to let his disdain show, and instead put a hand on his chest, “Damian wants to impress you with how famous I am compared to the rest of you.” Nolan snorted.

 

“Oh shit.”

 

Trevor put his hands to his head, a shocked expression on his face, “I used to be such a fan!”

 

Sylvia nodded, “Same, same.”

 

“ _Used_ to be?” Klaus leaned in, smelling the smoke coming from Sylvia’s clothes.

 

“Yeah, I mean, then I found out about porn,” Trevor stuck out his tongue, laughing, “So.”

 

Sylvia led him over to their lane, giggling, “So do you guys still do that Academy thing or-?”   
  


“Oh me? _ No, _ god no,” Klaus rolled his eyes as if he couldn’t think of anything more ridiculous, “I, like you, discovered porn and drugs and immediately threw everything else away.”

 

Nolan nodded, obviously the ‘quiet type’ when it came to getting high, but he captured Klaus’s total attention whenever he spoke, blinking slow. He extended a hand that Klaus took in a haze. “We got drugs, man.”

 

“You’re already better than my family.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey thanks for reading lol I have March all planNed and I can't to share it with you, if you want, I'm @sangrientojoe over on tumblr if you want to yell at me


	3. March

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just GRADUATED!!! that means this thing WILL be updating again Fuck yeah

  
  


Ben met them at the curb just two hours later, a smile on his face that Klaus returned from the backseat. Diego leaned to open the passenger side door.

 

“How was it?”

 

“Scary,” Ben gasped, relief etched on his face, “But easier than I thought,” His smile grew, “I totally stressed for nothing.”

 

Klaus grabbed the sixer off the floor behind Diego’s seat, “Well, now we can celebrate!” He grinned, feeling Ben’s nerves in the air as Diego put the car in gear. The beer had been cheap, but that was kind of the point, stealing dad’s liquor would mean dad would have a part in this. Or at least, that’s what Klaus thought, and Diego agreed after some thinking. 

 

Dad had no part in this, so Klaus used his fake ID.

 

The beer clinked together as the car left the parking lot.

 

“Oh, I don’t know…” Ben’s eyebrows shot up and Klaus waved his hand.

 

“Come on! We’re celebrating!”

 

“I just took the test,” Ben reasoned, “I don’t even know my scores yet.”

 

“We’ll celebrate that too,” Diego shot him a soft look, “You worked your ass off, dude.”

 

Ben pursed his lips and smoothed back his hair.

 

“That’s a yes!” Klaus practically jumped to grab Ben’s other hand, the case rattling next to him, “You’re gonna be a college boy,” he held his brother’s hand tight against his chest, “You have to get used to drinking.”

 

“You know that’s not what happens in college?” Ben was laughing with him, “It’s for taking classes and getting into debt.”

 

“And drinking,” Klaus readjusted his grip on Ben’s hand as Diego steered the car in the direction of a local park. “Fraternity parties, Beer Pong, banging some _ hot chicks _ .”

 

“All of your college experience comes from movies.”

 

“So? Would Hollywood just _ lie _ to us like that?”

 

Ben shook his head and wrestled his arm away from him.

 

“I haven’t even thought about where I would apply.”

 

“Somewhere far away from here,” Diego offered, Klaus nodded furiously, “Across the country.”

 

“Study abroad,” Klaus leaned forward and tapped his fingers on the center console, “You could go to Spain.”

 

“And do what?” Ben asked.

 

“Do Spain things,” Klaus shrugged.

 

“Maybe I should just go here,” Ben said, “Community college, I can stay at home…” He didn’t say the rest, but Klaus tilted his head, hearing the:  _ “And stay with you.” _ At the end.

 

“You get out of here and don’t look back.”

 

Diego parked the car.

 

Ben captured a somber look on his face and Klaus slapped the back of his seat, already choking on the possibility of witnessing an argument instead of getting a buzz. “Let’s drink!” He pushed his way out of the backseat in a hurry and Ben followed, eyeing the case.

 

“Are you sure it’s okay for us to be drinking out in the open like this?”

 

“It’s March,” Diego shoved his hands in his pockets and Klaus hummed, swinging the case happily as they walked, “Not like anyone’s really interested in going to a park when it’s chilly.”

 

The table was behind a few trees and one of those single column ashtrays full of damp sand. Klaus could feel the splinters through his pants when he sat down, watching Diego open the first bottle for Ben by bracing the cap on the edge of the bench and slamming his palm down on the top. It didn’t bubble like champagne or anything, but he clapped like it did.

 

Ben was smiling too, even though Klaus thought the clouds and the slight chill made the affair seem a bit melancholic.

 

Diego held his beer aloft, “Uh, a toast?”

 

Ben snorted, “Thanks.”

 

“‘A’ for effort Didi,” Klaus tilts his head and takes a quick drink, his fingers finding his pocket, “And Ben,” He twirled as best he could sitting down to face his brother, and hesitated when he saw how completely secure he looked, just for once not thinking about the Academy or his ‘condition’. 

 

Klaus took another swig, bigger this time, because something in his throat hurt.

 

“-I know you did… amazing on your test, colleges are gonna be all like: ‘Fuck, if we don’t get Ben Hargreeves, we might as well just tear our school down.’”

 

Ben nodded, “Thanks Klaus,” He took a drink and his face screwed into disgust.  _ “Jesus.” _

 

“Oh, I know,” Klaus laughed, but looked away.

 

“So what I think I should say,” Diego cleared his voice and tried again, “I’m really glad you have something figured out, Ben, something normal… You’re the best of us.”

 

Klaus tapped his fingers on the table, feeling sour, and on top of that he felt guilty for feeling sour too, “Hear hear,” He chimed, keeping his hand in his pocket, searching. “Even though I have the best body.”

 

“You’re a stick figure, Klaus,” Ben said, coy, “But yeah, it does feel nice to have a plan… and I was gonna maybe start looking at places that will let me apply this late, maybe get a headstart and go this fall instead of the next.”

 

Klaus leaned heavily on the table, resisting the urge to roll his eyes, which just felt awful, until he found what he was looking for. Right at the corner of his jacket pocket, his little white pill, for emergencies, he liked to say.

 

Feeling hatred in the direction of his favorite brother could be considered an emergency, especially after his big test and all.

 

_ “Klaus.” _

 

Klaus looked back at Diego and Ben, sure it had been them that that had spoken, but the two of them lead a conversation about his ACT that they believed Klaus was listening in on.

 

What was an emergency? 

 

A fire, but there weren’t any around. An earthquake? Maybe if they lived in California.

 

His knee bounced.

 

_ “Klaus.” _

 

Diego laughed at something Ben said, so Klaus added his own half-hearted chuckle.

 

“Oh, wow, yeah, I’m totally set now,” Ben nodded, responding to Diego’s joke, “Now I just need a house, a wife, and two point five kids, whatever that fucking means.”

 

“It means you cut the third kid in half,” Klaus’ hand was shaking so he braced it against his chin.

 

“Oh, right,” Diego pointed at him, “That’s it-  _ Klaus!” _

 

_ “Klaus!” _

 

Klaus finally caught sight of the man, the one whose mouth was dripping with blood, whose organs were spilling down the front of his pressed white shirt.

 

_ “Klaus, please!” _

 

That was an emergency.

 

Diego watched him swallow the pill with beer and Klaus placed an offended hand on his chest, “Just to calm my nerves, Diego! We’re supposed to be  _ celebrating _ how secure Ben is now!”

 

Ben leaned toward Diego, “Dude, it’s fine, it’s just one pill.”

 

Klaus rocked in his seat, “Just one pill.”

 

Diego scoffed, but sat back down, “It’ll be three more before 8.”

 

“I don’t like your tone, Nightwing,” Klaus spat, sticking a middle finger up at the man with the bloody shirt. “I don’t like  _ yours _ either!” Ben held up his palms.

 

“Guys, come on…”

 

_ “Klaus!” _

 

The man was getting blurry by the second.

 

“Ben,” Klaus hefted his beer, “I love you like a brother, you deserve better spirits-” He smiled in spite of himself, “-I’m gonna make a run, and get you something better than a Coors.”

 

He stood, happy even if he was completely ticked.

 

He pointed widely in the other direction, “I saw a gas station, don’t worry, I’ll be right back, I can’t get hard on painkillers, but we can get drunk enough that I’ll forget about it.”

 

“Klaus-” Ben protested, all responsible and ready for college.

 

Diego stopped him, nursing his bottle.

 

The cashier at the station didn’t buy his ID anyway.

 

He sat on the curb and let Diego pick him up, the sun setting and turning the sky the color of blood, Ben conked out in the backseat.

 

“He’s too nice to say it,” Diego told him, “But you acted like a real piece of shit.”

 

“Leave me alone,” Klaus felt sick with the beer and the pill still fizzing in his stomach.

 

“Just because you feel inadequate-”

 

_ “Number Two _ , is gonna lecture me on feeling like the second banana?” 

 

Diego pursed his lips, like he was eating something sour, “As long as  _ Number Four _ acts like a shithead, yeah, I am.”

 

“I was trying to have a little fun, but you got on my dick about it, so maybe it’s your fault.”

 

Diego parked the car and prepared to haul Ben inside. “Sounds like a real puzzle, why don’t you sit in here and mull it over?”

 

Klaus made a face, sticking out his tongue, but Diego was already pulling Ben out of the car, sleeping off the beer and planning to do the same. “It was a pill Diego!”

 

Diego ignored him.

 

“Not like I took out a spoon and lighter!” Diego gathered Ben in his arms and slammed the car door shut. Klaus rammed his fists against the dashboard, “ _ You _ just need to lighten the  _ fuck _ up, asshole!  _ You! _ And the American  _ Dream  _ Boy!”

 

The house door slammed behind them, leaving Klaus in the dark garage.

 

He slept alone in the backseat, and Vanya woke him up late the next day with a knock on the window.

 

Sylvia called his phone just a few days later, and Klaus smiled just hearing her voice: “Hey, loverboy!”

 

Klaus rolled over to lay on his stomach , kicking his legs up behind him, “Hey, Syl,” He sighed, “Thank god you called, I need to get the fuck out of this house.”

 

“You sound awful baby,” She responded, then said something to someone on her end, “Nolan and I were thinking… you and the rest of the crew, crash some house party that Dami is dealing for? Some kid’s parents are out of town and he’s got a pool.”

 

Klaus inspected the nail polish Allison had treated him to just a night ago, already chipping and peeling red flakes. “I don’t know if my beach body is really ready.”

 

“No problem!” Sylvia laughed, “We can high as shit on that new Evil Eye stuff, and Nolan can give us a show, he dives you know.”

 

“Yes, you’ve said,” Klaus laughed, twisting onto his back.

 

He really liked Sylvia.

 

He really liked all of them, Damian and Nolan, even Trevor, who had a habit of looming. But Sylvia especially, she was fun and talked to him like a person, and she understood him. They had the same ideas as each other, and she knew more about drugs than him.

 

“I only started using because my family psychologist was off the shits,” She had once told him, “Told my parents that my brain is all fucked up? So I was all: I don’t need all that shitty therapy, so they was like: take these motherfuckin’ pills  _ bitch! _ ” They had been really high at the time too, just sitting in her backyard with just the porchlight going and Damian’s complementary blunt being shared between them. No Nolan or Trevor or any other friends. She had started laughing her ass off, cackling into the night. Klaus hadn’t been able to help himself, snickering until three in the morning. He’d really picked up her snorting laugh on accident that night, and now he couldn’t stop doing it.

 

“Girl, gimme a second,” She said, “Dami’s gonna pick you up later, and then we’ll get our drink on! Oh- here, he wants to talk to you.”

 

“Oh, okay.” Klaus felt a warm pit open in his chest.

 

“Hey, Klaus,” Damian said, and Klaus could hear his lazy smile.

 

“So tell me, this party,” Klaus skipped the greeting, “Is it really a pool party? They know it’s March, right?”

 

Damian laughed, low and soft, Klaus wished sometimes he could laugh like that.

 

“They’re high schoolers, they’ll do anything,” He skipped the part where he acknowledged they were still technically high schoolers too, “You’ll like it though, it’s a real high brow event, this kid has a mansion, and you have me as a door pass.”

 

“Right,” Klaus stood, tucking the phone under his shoulder and padding to his dresser, “Syl said there’d be some  _ Evil Eye _ ?”

 

“It’s this new party drug I’ve been pushing, a little blue pill with an eye on it?” Damian explained as Klaus dug through his clothes, suddenly worried about patterns and what real high schoolers would wear to parties, and if he wore something totally stupid, Damian would be embarrassed of him or something-

 

“You’ve gotta try it though, I know you’ll love it.”

 

Klaus bit back a smile, pulling out a loose collared shirt made out of this silky material. It was for fancy Academy parties but he could imagine it looking pretty hot if he unbuttoned it halfway down.

 

“So you’ll pick me up?”

 

“The usual place, yeah,” Damian handed the phone back to Sylvia, who shrieked at him the time to expect Dami and that she’ll see him later, and then hung up.

 

Klaus shut the phone and twirled with the shirt still in his grasp, imagining some swanky car pulling up to the front of the academy, instead of the alley by the fire escape. He’d definitely tell dad to kiss his ass and hop in the passenger seat next to Damian, with Nolan, Sylvia, and Trevor in the back. Some new song blaring from the speaker. He’d kiss Damian and they’d speed off-

 

Klaus paused.

 

-Some of Sylvia’s friends would be there too, like Trish, who he’d met just last week. She could sit on his lap or something and they’d make out-

 

A knock came from his bedroom door and-

 

_ “What?” _

 

Klaus might have snapped a little too harshly, but his mother was sweet as ever.

 

“Hello, goose,” She smiled, “Just wondering if you had any clothes for me?”

 

“Oh, um,” Klaus tried to place himself back into reality, “Yeah, I…” He glanced at his shirt, all bunched up and wrinkled from his fist, “Actually, could you iron this out for me?”

 

She tilted her head, probably scanning the shirt as he held it out in front of her. “Of course, goose,” she bunched up his hair in a soft gesture of affection, “I’ll have it straightened out in no time.”

 

She left after a quick peck on the cheek and Klaus wondered if she knew what he was going to do that night: Sneaking out with Damian and all his new friends to go to a party. It felt so normal and cool, but at the same time, he had an inexplicable urge to bash his head into the wall.

 

He put on some tight pants and thanked his mother for the ironed shirt, then smoked a little soothe his shaking hands.

 

It was Trevor in the passenger seat, however, when they picked him up.

 

“Sylvia and Nolan are meeting us there,” Damian made a grabby hand when he saw Klaus’ blunt, putting the car in gear.

 

“Yeah they had to do some couple thing,” Trevor waved his hand to clear the smoke from Damian’s exhale.

 

“Oh,” Klaus tried not to sound strained, getting his blunt back from Damian without looking at him, “So it’s just us boys?”   
  


“Hopefully not for long,” Trevor scoffed, “I’m meeting this girl there, she’s like, on honor roll.”

 

“Trev is convinced he’s got a bad boy image,” Damian said, looking at Klaus.

 

“Not convinced, Dami,  _ confident.” _

 

Klaus just wanted to get there and drink.

 

Sylvia met him on the driveway and they hugged, sharing the last of his blunt with her before she walked him up to the party, spilling details about her and Nolan’s quick and romantic dinner at Dairy Queen before their arrival. “Sharing a Split,” She said, “He’s into that type of irony.”

 

Trevor and Nolan hung by Damian, as did a lot of other teens, but Sylvia had her strategy of working the room first, and buying her and Klaus’s cups from the 27 year old with the keg.

 

Damian’s new drug finally found them just outside by the glowing pool.

 

The Evil Eye.

 

A small blue pill with a triangle and an eye, like the Illuminati. The wavering light from the water made it glow.

 

Damian gave Klaus this lazy smile and pressed it into his open palm like it was a sacrament. “Have fun,” He said, “As usual, on the house.”

 

Klaus returned his gaze, then looked back to Sylvia and they took it together before ushering themselves back inside where the music and the dancing was.

 

Lights were already swirling, and Sylvia had suctioned herself to his side. “This works really fast!” She said, and Klaus blinked, the twist of the music and the sound of her voice swirling together.  _ “Really fast!” _

 

Some girl screamed and the music vibrated through his lungs, he shook his head furiously, letting his eyes dart back and forth and swirl the lights. “Fuck!” He yelled.

 

“FUCK!” Sylvia yelled back, jumping and waving her arms, getting sucked into the crowd of equally high teens. The red and orange and blue lights spiked into his eyes and everyone was laughing about something, Klaus didn’t know what, but he thought it was funny too. His laughter echoed in his brain and he latched onto the closest person, some girl with purple hair who screamed in his face, her pupils blown and her glowing face leaving after images. He blinked hard and she grabbed his face, laughing.

 

“My mom ironed this shirt for me!” He told her, because she  _ had  _ to know.

 

“I love your mom!” The girl yelled back, “Your skin is so soft!”

 

He was pulled away from her by Sylvia, emerging from the crowd just as the beat dropped. She pointed at a chair at the corner of the room, her eyes tearing up, “It’s just sitting there!” She screeched, howling with laughter and along with the music. Everything felt amazing, every nerve in his body pounding with the beat of the music, so much so that he needed to dance, bouncing up and down and grabbing people who grabbed at him.

 

He ended up making out with this girl, he didn’t know her name, but her lips were hard to catch up with, like the two of them were moving at two different speeds. She was a race car in the after images, and he was an uptown trolley getting pulled along by swirling drugs and booze. The whole house smelled like smoke and dope.

 

The walls strobed red and blue.

 

Damian grabbed him by the collar, “We gotta get out Klaus!”

 

“No, why?” He was ripped from the girl and she whined, “I’m in love-”

 

“Yeah, yeah, you want to get married and have kids, the cops are here, Klaus!”

 

Klaus blinked, letting Damian shove him and his future wife-with-no-name out the back door, “Cops?”

 

“The police, you know, the fuzz?” Damian pushed his wife away, “Your boyfriend’s over there!”

 

“Oh my god,” She said, “Be my maid of honor!” 

 

Klaus couldn’t distinguish what was supposed to be happening and what wasn’t, between planning a wedding and hearing the cops- “I’m with the Academy, they can’t arrest me.” He looked at Damian, “We can serve hors d'oeuvres, right? I’m so thirsty!” His Wife was gone by now, and Damian’s car was running and ready.

 

“They’re not gonna care you’re a teenage superhero when you have the latest street drug coursing through your veins, buddy!” Trevor ripped past them and jumped into the driver’s seat, securing a giggling Sylvia into the passenger side while Nolan drooled in the backseat, unconscious.

 

“You want something to drink?” Damian was practically straddling Klaus now, Klaus nodded, his tongue suddenly as dry as the Sahara. “Get in the fucking car.”

 

Klaus pulled Damian into the backseat with him, who quickly closed the door as Trevor hit the gas. Damian twisted, trying for purchase, then eventually collapsed back on top of Klaus, who was in between falling off the seat and getting his face shoved into Nolan’s armpit.

 

For a second Damian and him were nose to nose.

 

“Hi,” Klaus smiled.

 

“I’ll write down that your experience with the Evil Eye was a positive one,” Damian joked, and sat up way too soon.

 

By the end of March, Klaus had taken the Evil Eye at least three more times, and after each time, Klaus found that the ghosts were gone for days after. If they did appear, they were silent, tortured without words. Klaus loved it. The Evil Eye was his new favorite drug.

 

If he swallowed it, he could party, if he chewed, he could fall into a misty haze, and if he crushed it, his whole body would feel rigged to explode.

 

Damian knew he liked it too, and kept it from him, ‘to keep him safe’, he said, ‘I don’t want you and Sylvia to get hooked.’

 

Klaus grumbled, but let him do it, because sometime if he called and begged for some, they would stay up late and talk for hours. Klaus really liked talking to Damian.

 

It was the last week in March when Damian invited him over.

 

“My parents are gonna be gone for a few days, we can just hang out.”

 

“Sure,” Klaus smiled, shutting his door just as Luther stomped up the stairs from a training session. “Should I bring snacks?”

 

“If you want,” Damian said, “There’s a gas station on the way.”

 

“I’ve got the money,” Klaus gathered himself into his oversized coat, “See you in a few.”

 

The gas station was a little run down, and a little dusty, but chips were chips, and Klaus lingered in the candy aisle as he tried to reach a decision on the type of chocolate Damian liked.

 

There was a scuffle at the front of the store, and Klaus chose the small bag of chocolate covered berries. The cashier said: “I’m-I’m sorry-! I-!”

 

Klaus frowned, then looked up at the rounded mirror in the corner of the ceiling.

 

At the checkout was a man in a cartoon mask, pointing a gun at the cashier as he shoveled the register into the bag that was given. Klaus tensed, his heart pounding. He dropped the snacks as he turned, ready to make a break for it out the Exit-

 

Another gun was shoved into his face. Behind it, a kid in a frankenstein mask. Klaus showed his palms, but the robber faltered, what little Klaus could see of his eyes were wide with shock.

 

“I-I-” Klaus stammered, “I don’t have a phone, I wasn’t gonna-”

 

“Sh-Shut up!” The kid took a step forward, the gun shaking.

 

“We’re ready up here!” His friend called.

 

The kid did nothing, gun still quivering in Klaus’ face.

 

“Bro!” The other one yelled, “Let’s get the fuck out of here!”

 

“Y-Yeah!” The kid dropped the gun, shoving it into his waistband and bolting past Klaus, leaving him standing there with his heart close to bursting from his chest, sweat forming on his palms and prickling on his forehead.

 

He fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around his chest and wondering why they didn’t take his wallet.

  
  
  



End file.
